The Untouchables
by Kath
Summary: They say police officers would make the best criminals. Is it also true for Security officers? Dedicated to Macx and LaraBee.


FANDOM; Enterprise.  
AUTHOR; Kath  
TITLE; 'The Untouchables'.  
DISCLAIMER; All for fun, not for profit. Paramount owns the characters, my imagination is my own.  
SUMMARY; They say that police officers would make the best criminals. Is the same true of Security Officers?  
SPOILERS; Minor for 'Dear Doctor' and 'Acquisition'.  
DEDICATION; To Macx and LaraBee as a Thank you for creating the amazing 'Relived' Universe. I thought one big thank you would be better than lots of little ones. Keep writing please!  
  
'The Untouchables'  
  
Malcolm Reed pulled the thick cloak more tightly around himself in a semi-successful attempt to stop the cold rain splashing down his neck. He peered through the dense foliage of the alien plant currently offering concealment, if not dry shelter, and looked towards the planet's spaceport. Forty metres. That short distance was all that stood between himself and freedom from this terrible mess. Forty metres.  
  
Well, forty metres, a squad of soldiery, at least twenty security officers and two hulking pieces of machinery mounted with what could only be some kind of force cannon. The aliens were obviously determined to retrieve what he had stolen. Then there was the fact that it was open ground and even if, by some miracle, he did make it to one of the crafts he had no idea how to pilot the thing. Reed sighed quietly. He had known it was a bad idea, right from the start.  
  
** Two Days Before **  
  
"Captain, we're being hailed." Ensign Hoshi Sato's fingers flew over her console.  
  
Jonathan Archer looked up from a datapad. "Anyone we know, Hoshi?"  
  
Sato shook her head. "No, sir, their language is unfamiliar."  
  
A slight frown crossed Archer's face and he looked up to the tactical station. "How are the sensors coming along, Malcolm?"  
  
Reed's voice drifted from below the station. "They're doing very well, Captain, they're just not working." There was a brief flash of light, a whiff of ozone and a muttered curse from behind tactical.  
  
"Keep on it, Lieutenant." Then turning to Sato, Archer added, "Even with the sensors down you'd better put them through, Hoshi. We don't want them to think we're rude."  
  
Sato nodded and piped the message over the speakers. The bridge was filled with a melodious trilling sound.  
  
"It's beautiful." breathed Sato.  
  
Archer nodded as he began the standard greeting, "This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship Enterprise. We are peaceful explorers on a mission to meet new species. Please identify yourselves."  
  
"Got it." Sato sounded excited. The trilling sound broke up and gradually changed to English, although the voice retained a deep lilting accent.  
  
"Greetings, Captain. I am Captain Davar of the Cluster Federation. We picked up your ship some time ago and, while you are still outside our territory, we were puzzled by your lack of movement. We came to see if you need assistance."  
  
Archer had given Sub-commander T'Pol a questioning look when the alien had named his - or her, it was difficult to tell from the voice - organisation. But the Vulcan had simply shrugged her shoulders, she had never heard of the Cluster Federation. Now Archer replied to their visitors. "That is very kind of you, Captain. The fact is we are in the middle of some minor repairs. This area seemed quiet enough to get them done."  
  
"Of course." There was a short pause. "Ah, I have just been informed that we can also communicate visually. You have no objection, Captain?"  
  
"None at all."  
  
The main viewer flickered and then stabilised showing the bridge of the alien vessel. It was very similar to Enterprise with a raised walkway around the back, filled with blinking panels. At the bottom of the screen was the pilot's bench while the captain sat in a chair in the middle of the room. From what the Enterprise crew could see the alien bridge was double the size of their own, but despite this only three aliens were visible. The one in the captain's chair rose and took a step towards the viewer. "Captain Archer?"  
  
Archer nodded and stepped forward also. "A pleasure to meet you."  
  
"And I you. We have not encountered your species before. What do you call yourselves?"  
  
"We are Humans, from the planet Earth. We have not met any of your species either. Where are you from?" Archer hoped he was not staring too hard at the alien. They were humanoid in shape, tall too, at least two metres in height. Their skin was silvery purple, reminding Archer of fish scales. All three were dressed in black uniforms which contrasted with their skin. Archer blinked as he realised the alien was speaking.  
  
"We have no planet to call home," Davar wore a sad smile. "Perhaps once, long ago. But now we live between the Clusters. We have built a home of our own between the stars. Our tribes work together to maintain our prosperity. We are traders and scientists and explorers ourselves. I believe we will have much in common, and much to learn from each other." Davar gave a small bow.  
  
Archer returned the salute. "You are very courteous, Captain Davar. And I am sure you are right. In fact, would you care to join myself and my senior staff for some refreshments?" Archer ignored a sharp hiss of indrawn breath from somewhere behind him.  
  
"I would be delighted, captain, but I do not wish to disrupt your repairs."  
  
Archer waved his hand. "No disruption, I assure you. The repairs are well in hand." He glanced up to the tactical station, where Reed stood with his lips drawn in a fine line of disapproval. Archer continued, "It is not every day we meet a new friend. We would be very glad if you would join us."  
  
"Thank you, captain. May I bring my engineer? Perhaps she can help in your repairs."  
  
"By all means." Archer laughed, "Although I expect the repairs will be completed by the time you arrive."  
  
"I'm sure you are right, captain. It will take us some time to prepare our shuttle, but you may expect us in mstxpht. We shall see you then." The screen went blank.  
  
"Sorry about that, sir." Sato was fiddling with the universal translator again. "The UT shorted out there. I think they meant an hour."  
  
"Fine," Archer clapped his hands together, "We've got an hour to get ourselves presentable." Again he looked up to tactical and held up a forestalling hand before Reed could even open his mouth. "I know what you're going to say, Malcolm. Yes, it's a risk. But look at it this way, you saw their ship, they could have blasted us from the sky and we'd never have known what hit us. They seem friendly enough, let's give them the benefit of the doubt."  
  
If anything Reed's lips became even thinner. "Yes, sir."  
  
"Good. Now, I wonder what they eat. I need to speak to chef. T'Pol you have the bridge." Archer left via the turbolift and T'Pol calmly took the captain's chair.  
  
"One hour." Reed muttered. He was determined to have the sensors up and running before the aliens came on board.  
  
***  
  
In the event it had not made much difference. Reed had finally realised that the sensor glitch was deliberate and had managed to circumvent the interference. The brief glimpse he had of the aliens' ship was impressive, and daunting. Fire power which greatly surpassed that of Enterprise and defensive shielding which had Malcolm salivating at the thought of installing it on board. Then, everything shut down.   
  
Reed felt a curious pressure in his ears, as if he'd dived too deeply, and then everything went black.   
  
***  
  
You'd really think that by now they would know better than to invite every new acquaintance to take a tour of the ship. Reed groaned as he came round in the transporter bay, pushing a splitting headache aside. It was the Ferengi incident all over again. Only, this time, there was no Commander Tucker around, however inappropriately dressed, there was no Captain Archer to outwit the comical little aliens and there was no Sub-commander T'Pol to display surprising proof of the Vulcan ability to disseminate.  
  
No, there was only him with the three aliens looming over him. They could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be said to appear comical.  
  
As soon as Reed had his bearings he was firing the only weapon he had to hand - questions.  
  
"Where is the Captain? What do you want?"  
  
"Your crew is unharmed. They will remain so as long as you co-operate."  
  
"And just what kind of cooperation do you require?" Reed sneered.  
  
A pained expression crossed Davar's face. He reached down and hauled the Lieutenant to his feet. "You are going to right a terrible wrong."  
  
Reed blinked. Whatever he had been expecting it was not that. Noticing his confusion, Davar continued. "You heard me tell your captain that we no longer have a planet to call our own?" Reed nodded. "It is out there, somewhere. Our people were scattered millennia ago. Our enemies hunted us throughout the galaxy. They tried to wipe us out. But they could not kill us all. Gradually the survivors came together within the Cluster. And now we are ready to strike."  
  
Disdain filled Reed's face. "What a touching story. If you think you can involve me or Enterprise or Starfleet in your bid for revenge..."  
  
Davar shook his head. "You misunderstand. There are less than five hundred of us. We have one ship. A large ship, a powerful ship, but still it is only one ship. It is all we have left. We could not take revenge for the crimes committed against us, even if we wanted to."  
  
"What do you want then?"  
  
"We want to go home."  
  
** Now **  
  
Which brought Reed to his present position. Cold, wet and miserable. Trapped on an alien planet with half of that planet's security forces out looking for him and the other half blocking his escape.  
  
The Transporter. That was what had caught Davar's attention.  
  
Reed had sometimes speculated, idly of course, on the nefarious uses the transporter could be put to. The ability to beam into bank vaults, government offices, peoples' homes; the thought was actually quite frightening. Reed wondered if the scientists had fully thought through the implications of transporter technology. He could only hope that those same scientists were developing safeguards along with the transporters.  
  
However, this planet had no safeguards against the transporter. Davar wanted him to beam into a vault and steal - "reclaim" - the star charts which would lead them back to their home planet.  
  
Reed had protested. Of course he had protested. He was slightly disconcerted that his main objection had been regarding the operation of the transporter itself, not wanting to teach the aliens how to use it. He had been half convinced that the alien's tale was genuine and that impression was confirmed when Davar had not insisted on knowing the ins and outs of their technology. The alien captain had simply instructed one of his crew to bring an engineer to the bay. It was unfortunate that the engineer had been Commander Tucker.  
  
Reed grimaced as another rivulet of cold water made its inexorable way down his back. Tucker had been even more disinclined to help the aliens than he was.  
  
** Then **   
  
"What the hell's goin' on?" Tucker glared at the tall alien. "Where's the captain?"  
  
Davar inclined his head in a brief salute. "I'm sure Captain Archer would be highly gratified to know of the devotion and loyalty his crew displays towards him."  
  
"Don't think you can soft soap me, bud." Tucker growled.  
  
Davar did not understand the turn of phrase, but he did understand the tone. "Your captain and crew are quite well. Lieutenant Reed has agreed to perform a small task for us but he is reluctant to share your technology. Perfectly understandable. I wish to reassure you both that we have no interest in your transporter beyond the fact that it can help us. Once we have what we need we shall leave you in peace."  
  
"They want me to steal some star charts, Commander." Reed interjected. "You need to beam me into the vault where they are kept and then, once I've found what they need, you can bring me back."  
  
Tucker turned incredulous eyes on the Armoury officer. "Why are you even considering helping them, Malcolm?"  
  
"Besides the fact that, as Captain Archer said "They could blast us from the sky"?" Reed shrugged. "I believe him, sir."  
  
Tucker looked back and forth between the lieutenant and the alien. Stopping his gaze on Davar he asked, "Why didn't you just ask for our help?"  
  
Davar shrugged, "We have been monitoring you for some time. At first I thought that I could convince your captain to help us, then I wasn't so sure. I could not take the risk."  
  
Tucker paused, remembering the time when a much younger Charlie Tucker had desperately wanted to go on a camping trip with his school, but knew his parents would never agree because they thought he was too young. He had done some pretty stupid things to get what he wanted. He had forged his father's signature on the consent slip and got his parents' leave to stay at a friend's house for a sleepover. The trip had been a disaster. He had returned home with a raging case of poison oak and a strong desire never to go camping again. Even when he had joined Starfleet he had hated the survival exercises. When his father found out what he had done he had decided that the itchy rash was punishment enough, but he had asked one question. "Why?"  
  
Tucker's reply now came back to him. "Better not to ask than get a 'No'." he mumbled.  
  
Reed looked at him curiously.  
  
Tucker shook away the memories, this situation was not even in the car park of the ball park. "It still doesn't give you the right to hi-jack us." he said forcefully. "What if we refuse?"  
  
"Then we will destroy you." The voice was cold, but they both saw the alien's eye twitch.  
  
Funnily enough, neither of the Starfleet officers believed him.  
  
"I don't think you will." Tucker opined.  
  
Davar seemed to sag and his face creased. "No. I will not. Please help us. Please?"  
  
Tucker and Reed exchanged glances.  
  
"All you had to do was ask nicely." Tucker smirked, then turned to Malcolm. "Are you sure about this?"  
  
"Yes." Reed glanced towards the transporter. "But the captain's not going to like it."  
  
"I guess you're right. But hey, we can always claim they twisted our arm."  
  
The two men grinned in shared understanding. Then Reed stepped onto the transporter and nodded to Tucker. "Beam me down, Trip."  
  
Tucker entered the co-ordinates as provided by Davar. Then he stopped, looked up at Reed waiting patiently, and turned to the alien captain. "If anything happens to him on that planet, I will hold you personally responsible."  
  
There was a strangled gasp from the transporter pad. "Trip?"  
  
Tucker looked steadily at the Armoury officer. "I'm not kiddin'. You're not exactly volunteering for this, Malcolm." He jerked his head towards Davar. "He is convincin', but we wouldn't be doin' this like this if we had a choice. Just come back safe, y'hear? That's an order."  
  
Reed felt an entirely inappropriate foolish grin spreading across his face. "Yes, sir!"  
  
Tucker nodded once and set the transporter in motion.  
  
** Now **  
  
Reed shifted a little and stifled a yelp as cramp seized his leg. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. This situation was getting very tedious.  
  
The actual robbery had gone remarkably smoothly. He had materialised in the centre of the vault and quickly found what he was looking for. If he had any more doubts they were dispelled by the information itself. Star charts that was all. Davar truly wanted nothing more than the way home.  
  
Then the alarms had started.  
  
Reed was not sure how he had managed to get out of the complex, but he had. The theory of a quick beam in then out was now proved to be a non-starter. While the aliens did not have the technology to block the transporter they did have sophisticated monitoring devices and Reed had activated those devices when he removed the charts. It was only now he realised that the sonic frequency of the alarms was the very obstacle that had prevented his pick up by the transporter. They really needed to work on that.  
  
There were no alarms sounding at the spaceport, but the fact that he was still sitting under a bush, wondering how in hell he was going to get off this planet, told him that at the very least the transporter was off-line; again. He hoped that they would never have to rely on the transporter. If they ever got the damn thing working properly it would be too easy to expect it to solve all their problems. His current circumstances showed that the transporter was all too fallible.  
  
Reed looked up into the sky as he heard a familiar whine echo in the air. A shuttle. A Starfleet shuttle was descending gracefully to his position.  
  
Weapons fire erupted around the craft. Reed winced. This was too much. He had no desire to see anyone else put in danger for him.  
  
The shuttle hovered a couple of feet above the ground, the hatch slowly opening. Reed's legs suddenly came back to life. If the pilot was going to risk his life for him the least he could do was try to co-operate. He sprinted for the open hatch and launched himself inside. He lay panting on the deck as the shuttle gained height and the hatch closed behind him. He was aware of the buffeting the shuttle took as the aliens continued to fire. He felt his stomach sink as the shuttle banked and then headed into open space.  
  
"Glad to have you back."  
  
He had expected to hear a Texan accent and was totally unprepared for the soft California tone.  
  
"Captain?" Reed spluttered.  
  
"We'll discuss it later, Lieutenant."  
  
Reed's heart plummeted just as his stomach had moments before. What a mess. What a terrible mess.  
  
** Two days later. **  
  
Malcolm Reed stepped out of the Brig at the same time as Commander Tucker. They shared embarrassed glances before turning to face the security detail.  
  
If anything the Security officer was more embarrassed than them. "Uhm, Lieutenant Reed, the Captain wants to speak to you." Reed nodded in acknowledgement and left the Brig.   
  
"Commander Tucker, the Captain wants to speak to you too."  
  
Tucker sighed.  
  
***  
  
"Come."  
  
Reed entered the ready room and stood at attention.  
  
Archer regarded the younger officer.  
  
"Have you thought about what I said at our last meeting?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Reed kept his expression neutral, trying not to wince as he remembered the dressing-down he had received which had resulted in 48 hours Brig time.  
  
"And?"  
  
"You were right, Captain. I endangered myself and the mission. It won't happen again, sir." Reed almost crossed his fingers behind his back. He was a Security officer. They were expected to take risks.  
  
"Very well. You may return to duty."  
  
Before Reed had a chance to reply the door chime sounded and he shuffled aside to allow Commander Tucker to enter the cramped quarters.  
  
"Well, Commander, have you thought further on what we discussed."  
  
"Yes, sir. I allowed a subordinate officer to take unwarranted risks. It won't happen again."  
  
Reed hid his grin as he realised that Tucker did have his fingers crossed behind his back. He understood perfectly. Neither of them could in all conscience swear that they would never again put themselves in danger for the sake of the crew. It simply was not possible. And, Reed realised, Archer knew it too.  
  
The Captain passed a tired hand across his forehead. "I know you both believe you did the right thing. Perhaps I may, MAY, have done the same in your position. But we must be careful. We are building a legacy. History will judge what we do here. In a hundred years time, when Davar's people are strong enough to take their revenge, what will History say about Enterprise?"  
  
"They'll say that we did our best, Captain. That's all any of us can do."  
  
"I hope so, gentlemen. Dismissed." Archer sighed as his officers filed out. He'd known that a Starship captain would have to make some hard decisions, but he did not expect them to be quite this hard. He'd already condemned one race of people to extinction for the sake of evolution, now he wondered if they had sown the seeds of war. He sighed again. Tucker was right, they could only do their best because there were never any easy answers.  
  
***  
  
Tucker and Reed glanced at each other outside the Ready room, both a little uncomfortable with Archer's seriousness.  
  
"Do you think they will come back? Go to war when they're stronger?"  
  
Reed looked troubled. "I don't know. I hope not." Then his face cleared, "But we can't go through life doing nothing for fear of making a mistake."  
  
"Guess not." The two officers made their way to the turbolift. Behind them Captain Archer retook his chair.  
  
"Fancy getting a bite to eat? I'm starving."  
  
Tucker looked at him in surprise. "Didn't you have the meatloaf in the Brig?"  
  
Reed frowned. "Commander, the resequenced meatloaf is our equivalent of bread and water."  
  
"Would you lay off the meatloaf?"  
  
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure." They stepped onto the turbolift.  
  
"It's cultural. It's traditional."  
  
"It's horrible."  
  
Tucker's retort was cut off by the turbolift doors closing. Archer smiled, at least his officers were back to normal.  
  
The End.  
  
***  
  
A/N You can blame Virgin Trains for the plot bunny. Sitting on a cold platform with rain lashing down for hours on end, you really, really wish you had a transporter. 


End file.
